


The Light Behind Your Eyes

by Vanilla_Ella



Category: Bandom, Twenty One Pilots
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - World War III, Angst, Blushing, Chubby Josh, Cuddling, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Lots of blushing, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-07
Updated: 2017-02-25
Packaged: 2018-09-15 13:24:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 8,947
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9236993
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vanilla_Ella/pseuds/Vanilla_Ella
Summary: Life is a puzzle; it'll only come together if you have the right pieces.Take Josh Dun, a sensitive, chubby sophomore, and Blurryface, the counterpart who's already taken over junior, basketball captain Tyler Joseph, for instance.When the pieces begin to fit despite the differences and abnormalities of both boys, Blurryface will finally learn to love, and Josh Dun will learn what it is to be loved.High School AU.





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> Hello frens.
> 
> I hope you guys like? It's just the beginning. By the way, Tyler/Blurryface is older (junior) and Josh is the sophomore.

Josh Dun was always melancholic. That's how his brother would describe him.

He was that kid that sat alone at a lunch table, was always that kid who would hide in the back of the classroom, that one that was always watching kids exchange invitations to parties and listening to them talk animatedly about that 'crazy' last night without having any knowledge or experience with what they were talking about. He was that one who wouldn't matter much if he dropped off the face of the earth, as he was sure everyone had minimal knowledge of his very existence.

It was fine. It was sophomore year of high school. 

It was normal. 

That's what he told himself whenever the kids on the sports teams would pick on him, would either call him names in the halls loud enough for others to hear and giggle, would poke his soft belly with judgmental stares and sharp fingers. On the bad days, when he found himself in the dirty bathroom with blood gushing out of his nose and purple flowers bruising his pale skin, it was harder to believe. 

Surviving day to day was all Josh knew. It was all he could do.

 

•••••••

 

Blurryface was always quiet.

He was that kid who sat up in front of the class, that kid who sat among the school's most popular clique at lunch, was that kid who was getting at least three party invitations every week.

It was good. It was junior year of high school. It was normal.

That's what he told himself at those rare moments he found himself alone, completely alone, at night. No sounds or annoying teenagers to distract him from the complete emptiness that he felt. Even the boy living in his head had grown silent long ago.

He'd never admit it, but it was terrifying. A hole in his chest he could take, but a hole in his heart proved fatal, as he felt his boat sinking more and more every day.

He had no friends. No real friends, at least. Of course, the only people who hung out with him only did so in hopes to get on his good side, knowing he wasn't a force to be reckoned with. 

His siblings and parents quit trying to talk to him years ago, when he became snappy and angry, they could see the danger blaring in red, neon lights, and they left him alone.

And so, Blurry was resigned to being alone, deciding that life perhaps really was just suffering. He was resigned to knowing that he'd never see anyone through the veil of red hot anger that blurred his world and the people around him, and he was resigned to the fact that he'd never see the human face in any other emotions besides the ones he knew: betrayal, fear, and complete and utter madness.

One would wonder what he'd be like if he'd found the boy with red, curly hair and a large, bright smile earlier.

 

••••••

 

A bathroom isn't quite exactly the most common place you'd meet someone you'd never forget, but if you asked either of them, their relationship was anything but common.

It was anything but simple, too.

Simple souls would probably be washing hands at the sinks, glancing at one another before murmuring a word of hello, and things would evolve from there.

But no.

School was frustrating and irritating; some days it was tolerable, others found Blurry punching cracks into the dirty walls of the bathroom or some unlucky fellow student that annoyed him enough. Days when teachers would glare at him or make a mockery of him in front of the entire class were probably the worst, and there wasn't any other reason why Blurry had marched into the bathroom positively infuriated.

Now, he finds himself staring hard at two other juniors, completely unleashing his burning glare on the two boys who look ready to soil their pants like three years olds. 

His eyes reflect the liquid dripping from their knuckles, the air completely silent, save the choking in the background.

"Get lost, Joseph," one of the boys say, though his voice is unsteady and unsure. 

"Make me." Right now, he knows he can't afford another suspension from the school. Though his parents stopped bothering him long ago, he knows the hell they're capable of making if he got himself expelled at the start of the school year.

"What do you care?" the other inquires, voice perhaps a whole octave above his normal time. "This princess ain't worth anything but a beating."

Blurry narrows his eyes, not paying any mind to the supposed 'princess' sitting in the corner. He dashes forward, feeling a sense of both pride and anger when they both squeal like pigs and dash away out of the bathroom.

A target of warm flesh and the beautiful screams that always followed would've been ideal, but now, the anger is threatening to implode, and Blurry spins on his heel, his fist immediately colliding with the dry wall, a large web of cracks rupturing and weaving around his knuckles.

And it goes on like that, the blinding, numbing pain in his fist and the cracks that get deeper and deeper with each connection somehow soothes the anger burning in his heart, hides the loneliness and the aching with the completely burning pain. 

He doesn't even notice the blood running down his arms from his split knuckles, so how could you blame him when he turns and lands a punch in the face of the person whose hand comes to rest hesitantly on his shoulder.

He doesn't even realize who he hit, all he sees is blazing red.

That is, until a soft, melancholic blue bleeds into his vision and he sees a boy on the ground, clutching his bruising cheek as he shakes in the vibrant sea of aqua.

He feels a pang of guilt, or at least, knows he would, if fear wasn't what first overwhelmed his senses.

You can't see over the most important things in life, over the most vibrant and startling of things, and yet, he somehow sees this weak creature and all of his blue glory.

He sees his coffee eyes, and how the lights dance in those tear-filled windows. A tender soul is spilt through trembling, pink lips that seem to beg him to not be afraid.

He isn't afraid.

He's completely and wholly terrified.

You can't really blame him for running.


	2. Chapter Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey frens!
> 
> I'm sorry this took so long to get out; life has been really busy these past weeks! I'm gonna try to update every Saturday and Sunday like I did with my last story but please know that this schedule may take a while to start beginning consistently!
> 
> Thank you for your patience! I hope you enjoy!

Screw teachers.

Blurry doesn't care if they're too busy having midlife crises and re-evaluating their lives to fail to recognize talent.

They can't just confiscate his poem he'd been working on for weeks just because x or y (or whatever it was) was missing from the equation.

He's brewing in his anger, blood boiling hot. Having his cathartic means taken away from him was worse than throwing him off a cliff, in his opinion. Especially when it was his only way to deal with...

He shakes him out of his head. The blue, red-haired, lavender boy.

I was just tired that day, he told himself. 

Detention should've been starting for him in his algebra class, but screw it, he decides, as he continues walking down the halls to the exit door just a few yards away. It's not like Mrs. Cooper would really realize he missed it, as she was too occupied with the slow but steady destruction of her marriage.

It's then that he hears it.

At first, he thinks his heart's beating ridiculously loud, but as he begins nearing a door (to...music theory?) he stops dead in his tracks.

Drums.

Drums are being played.

It seems dull and stupid, but he peeks inside (mistake number one) and to his surprise, he sees the lavender boy. Hands wrapped tightly around sticks and hitting the surfaces of the cheap drum set with his pretty eyes closed, head tilted back, exposing his creamy neck as he loses himself to the beautiful and complicatedly simple beats, takes any breath Blurry thought he had and replaces it with a strange tightness in his chest.

For a long while, he stands frozen, completely enchanted in watching the lavender boy play, and he feels himself begin to slip, begin to fall down the precipice of losing himself to the music and letting his heartbeats take control.

Then it stops.

Blurry opens his eyes to realize he didn't even remember closing them, and to the sight of the lavender boy staring at him, coffee eyes wide and pink mouth open a bit.

He never ran faster in his life, the exit door just within his reach seeming like it was miles away before he finally got out, the autumn air piercing the heat that had suddenly come over him and flushed his entire face an embarrassing shade of pink.

Luckily, with the lack of students around due to school being out for at least half an hour already, no one sees him, and he stumbles to regain his mental dignity as he begins walking out of school grounds, shaking ever so slightly.

His brain and heart were making it a bigger deal than it was. That's what he told himself.

 

••••••••

 

He's in his biology class.

Blurry curses whatever fate decided that he should finally notice that, finally realize who exactly sat in the opposite corner of the back of the classroom.

It's a blessing and a curse to be assigned to the back, as he could easily stare at whoever he wanted with little risk of ever getting caught (it's not like anyone would say anything anyway). 

But on the other side of the double-edged sword, he finds his eyes practically glued to the lavender boy just a few seats away.

The way he puts his elbow on the desk and his chin in his palm, stares at both his papers and the board at the front of the class intently, flips his pen in his fingers with practiced skill that no doubt came from his drumming sessions, the way his tongue pokes out a bit when he concentrates and scribbles answers.

All those things make Blurry's heart and stomach do strange somersaults and flips, and he finds himself picking up on smaller details day by day.

But the way his dark lashes flutter against his pale cheeks every time he blinks is perhaps one of the most enchanting and entertaining things to notice.

They're like darkened butterfly wings, soft inked kisses against angel white paper that glide and glimmer. 

It makes him sick to watch the lavender boy do such a simple and natural function and realize that his heart beat like it was trying to escape out of his chest and fly into the hands of the one person it seemed to belong to.

Blurry growls and shakes his head, tries to glue his eyes to his paper unsuccessfully before shutting them tightly and begging himself to get his head back together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Feedback of any kind really helps, so if you have the time, please do so!
> 
> See you tomorrow, frens! Stay alive <333 |-/


	3. Chapter Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the lovely comments and kudos, frens!
> 
> Here's another chapter!

He needs to take the bus. 

Normally, he'd do anything to avoid taking it (you'd be crazy if you thought he willingly and happily let himself go into a tin can full of rowdy, loud teenagers...) but sometimes the distance between his house and his school was too far to walk in the rain, especially with the fact that he wanted to get home and watch the news (threats from foreign countries on the television were something his mother definitely didn't approve of so he had to watch it before she got home).

And that's how he finds himself reluctantly dragging himself to the bus stop.

Thankfully, there aren't too many kids waiting around in the rain (most were probably picked up by their parents, Blurry muses) and so, he trudges over the wet concrete to a fairly empty spot, pulling his hood a bit further down over his eyes and grimacing as raindrops continue to drip from the rim.

He watches the students chatter amongst themselves, some splashing needlessly in the puddles while laughing like three years olds.

Blurry almost rolls his eyes.

Almost being the key word, as he suddenly feels a presence shift a few feet to his right.

It's soft and cool, and it's only mere seconds before he knows who it is.

At first, he tries to force himself to keep his eyes on the road, tries to entertain himself with the golden and crimson street lights and the way they reflect and glow in the wet streets.

Though, the harder he tries to train his eyes on the dark road, it seems, he only finds his head turning to his right more and more.

'Damn it, stop fighting,' he thinks angrily to the boy in his head as he scrunches his eyes shut.

They open anyway.

He sees the lavender boy staring at the concrete, shaking. He's completely drenched in rain, clothes sticking to his body tightly and somehow accentuating his softness.

Blurry hears whispers and giggles, and a strange part of his brain is angered when he realizes that he's not the only one looking at lavender boy, that other students are pointing and laughing at his boy.

Another thing that angers him is the lack of protective clothing the boy has against the weather, the fact that he's only wearing a thin, long-sleeved shirt and jeans that seem darker than black with the rain soaked in them.

Rain drips from his seemingly melting red hair that streaks down the side of his face, down his pretty light blue face that helps swirl his skin and vibrant red hair into a pretty warm lavender Blurry just wants to drown in.

He tries to question himself as he begins unzipping and taking off his jacket, but he can't find any inquiries because he knows why.

He knows why he drapes the coat hastily around the shaking boy's shoulders, why he quickly pulls his hood over the boy's drenched head. He knows why he suddenly feels like he has a fever when the boy's head darts up and looks at him with the warmest coffee eyes, blood spilling from the cut just above his brow, and he knows why he darts away, why the distance to his home is suddenly not so far and why he isn't bothered by the fact that he trips on the slippery pavement twice and scrapes up his elbows.

He's still burning red when he gets back, completely drenched like his lavender boy and panting, heart racing a mile per second.

He knows the truth, and despite knowing, he tells himself that he just wanted to shelter his lavender and keep the rain from diluting his beautiful color.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you very much for reading! Comments and kudos are appreciated, as always!
> 
> Hope I see you all next Saturday! Stay alive! |-/


	4. Chapter Four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Good day/night, frens!
> 
> Thank you for waiting; here's another chapter! <333

He tries to forget the incident the next day, walking into the school. Some students glance at him and murmur, but immediately quiet and turn away when he glares at them.

He almost wishes he felt regret for giving his coat to the lavender boy, as word got around the school quickly, no doubt.

But somehow, the image of his eyes up close. Those golden flakes sprinkled in gorgeous coffee eyes he just wants to drown in. It makes it all worth it, strangely. 

He sighs as he punches in the passcode of his locker, shoving his algebra books into them.

He's just pulling out his heavy biology book before he hears a throat being cleared beside him.

And he wonders why he's surprised (and suddenly strangely overheated) when he sees the lavender boy.

He has a small bashful smile, coffee eyes dancing with starlight and cheeks tinged the lightest shade of pink.

He's clutching Blurry's jacket against his chest.

"Hi," he says quietly.

Blurry immediately feels an embarrassing flush wash over him, and he's pretty sure if you looked up the word 'flustered', the first thing that would show up is his face. He nods in acknowledgement, turning back to his locker to lock it.

"Um..thank you for letting me borrow your jacket yesterday," he sees the lavender boy shift it in his hands nervously. "I washed it for you, so..."

The minute he holds out the clothing, Blurryface begins walking away as quickly as possible.

For a moment, he's relieved that the boy's not following him (who knows what he'd do with the jacket if he got it back besides breathe in his obsession's scent like a crazed lunatic) but he deflates when he hears footsteps jog their way beside him.

"Here," the boy says again, sounding a bit confused as he matches his pace with Blurry's quick one. 

"Keep it," Blurry mumbles, wanting the boy to just disappear...or stay by his side forever. He doesn't know.

All he knows is that he can't handle his lavender boy being so close. He already feels waves of cool, melancholy shades spilling through his shield of bloody red, and it terrifies him.

"Wait, can you just stop--"

Blurry immediately do so, watching, a bit amused, as the boy quickly halts as well, a befuddled frown on his face.

"Here," he offers the jacket again at half-arm's length, though something tells Blurry that he regrets giving it back. Maybe it had to do with the fact that it was still raining.

Blurry stares at his black jacket for a long while before looking back up at the boy's flushed face. "Do you have your own?"

He seems a bit startled to hear him speak, as no one in the school ever heard him utter more than three words at a time. "Uh--mm, no.."

He tilts his head. "Why not?"

"Probably 'cus none of them fit around his fat body," a new, nasally voice sounds.

Blurry can't help but feel a bit of sympathy bleed into his heart when the lavender boy burns red in embarrassment, looks down at his feet to ignore the arrival of some of the basketball players.

"Hey Joseph," Brad, perhaps the only one on the team that almost rivaled Blurry, bumps his shoulder against him, jerking his head toward the lavender boy. "Whatcha doing, talking to this fatty?"

The other boys laugh, and Blurry rolls his eyes.

"Having a conversation with a fellow student like a normal person."

Brad scoffs, looking the boy up and down. "Just don't let any of his weight rub off on you."

"Heaven knows he has the body fat percentage of a whale," another boy chimes in, and they all laugh.

"I was just talking to him about whales, as we're both in biology," he moves close to the lavender boy, slipping an arm around his shoulders, ignoring the wide-eyed look. 

He barely can keep his breathing steady when he feels how soft and warm he is, how he seems to fit so perfectly against his body.

"Anyways," he forces out, glaring at the blonde who looks ready to remark on the flush that spreads across Blurry's cheeks, "we gotta get a move on. I better see you losers in practice later."

He drags the lavender boy away, ignoring the hundreds of heavy stares and almost disgusted looks he gets from the students they pass by.

The lavender boy pressed against his side is quiet, tense under his arm and barely even breathing by the time they reach the door of basic biology.

Blurry reluctantly pulls away, making sure to step away to give his lavender boy some space to breathe. It takes a while before he finds the ability to use English again, surprisingly.

"You..." He narrows his eyes a bit, cocking his head to the side a little, jacket all but forgotten in his hands. It takes a while before a pink spreads over his cheeks, then his whole face. "You didn't have to do that for me," he mumbles, looking down at his feet.

Blurry rolls his eyes, trying to cover his own bashfulness with nonchalance. "As if you wanted them to descend on you like a pack of wolves. They like the fluffy ones, you know?"

He swears he sees the lavender boy smile a little. 

They stand a little awkwardly before each other, shifting and searching for something to say, anything to say, not really needing or wanting to go into the classroom just yet. They were late as it was, and both of them didn't really care.

"I--I'm Josh," lavender boy introduces softly, holding out his hand.

Blurry stares at it for a while before clearing his throat and taking it when it's thrusted towards him a little.

It's so warm and soft in his hand, just like lavender--no, Josh's body is, and Blurry burns as he praises the galaxy no one can read his thoughts. 

"I'm Tyler," he introduces seamlessly, having hundreds of hours of practicing and hiding under an alibi.

But somehow, it seems wrong for the name to roll off his tongue this time. 

When Josh makes another move to give the jacket to him, Blurry shakes his head. "Keep it. You seem like you need it more."

Josh blushes furiously as he shakes his head, profuse protests spilling from his lips like honey. "No, no I couldn't do that. It's yours."

Blurry grabs the hands that offer back his clothing and pushes them toward Josh's chest, waiting for the younger to look up at him before he locks their eyes, stepping a step too close to the younger, and ignoring the heat that immediately passes between them.

"Keep it," he murmurs again, tone so sincere and serious that he almost doesn't recognize his own voice.

Josh's chocolate eyes blink for a moment, his dark lashes fanning against his cheeks for a moment, and Blurry's sure his heart skips a beat right there.

'Fuck, get it together,' he thinks to himself as he mentally jumps off a bridge.

"Thank you," Josh says quietly, and Blurry's eyes fall (to his utter embarrassment and horror) to the pink lips for a moment as they form those words. He turns so quickly he feels the blood swirl in his brain, and walks the last few steps to the classroom hurriedly, afraid that if he didn't get out of the lavender boy's presence, he'd do something stupid.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about all the blushing, frens >.<
> 
> Thank you for reading! Kudos and reviews are greatly appreciated! See you all tomorrow!
> 
> Stay alive |-/


	5. Chapter Five

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yo
> 
> Hi
> 
> Hello
> 
> I'm sorry I don't have a lot of free time today; thankfully i had already written this out! 
> 
> Please enjoy Frens

He thinks he's catching a sickness or something.

He doesn't understand how or why he burns so hot whenever their eyes meet in the hallways, or whenever they happen to glance at each other in biology.

It's weird and annoying, and Blurry doesn't like it one bit.

He doesn't enjoy his heart racing like a stallion whenever Josh offers him a smile despite the growing number of discolorations over his body, and he especially doesn't enjoy it whenever someone whistles from the other side of the school and he's forced to look away from his lavender boy.

Yeah, he's definitely sick.

 

••••••

 

Blurry's going to the bathroom during his lunch break, and the first thing he hears when he enters is laughing.

Half of the basketball team begin filing out, glancing at Blurry and laughing even more.

He doesn't need any more evidence to know what they've done.

Brad, fortunately, is the last to come out, and Blurry grabs him by the shirt, jerks him close despite his squeak and his initial resistance. He smiles when he sees the fear fill Brad's eyes when he realizes the team walked off without him.

"Leave him alone."

"What? Your fat boy?" Brad spits on the floor, just narrowly missing Blurry's shoe, and the boy spins him around and slams him against the wall, thankful no one was around.

"Yeah," he glares, though a smile spreads across his face, red appearing in lights dancing in Blurry's eyes. "Boy's my bitch."

It takes a while, but Brad's eyes light up as well. "I see what you're doing."

Blurry loosens his grip on him in the slightest, stepping back a little.

"Making him believe he's your friend then totally ripping his diseased heart out," Brad cackles, throwing his head back like its the funniest thing he ever heard. Blurry lets go of him, lifting an eyebrow.

What a stupid boy, he muses.

"You and your team will leave him to me then?"

"Anything for you, captain," he nods, a cruel glint of happiness shining brightly in his countenance. "Make it painful for the princess, yeah?" He punches his shoulder lightly before walking away, still chortling.

Blurry sighs when he's out of earshot, a strange guilt rolling in his stomach from having to stoop so low to protect the lavender boy.

When he walks into the bathroom, sees the blood pooling around him in a small puddle, the bruises that already begun coloring his pale skin, lying on the floor like a fallen angel, he decides it's worth it, if only he'll never find him like this again.

He walks over, ignoring how the boy flinches and curls up as much as he can when he approaches.

"I'm not here to hurt you," Blurry says quietly, kneeling on the dirty floor beside him. "Don't worry."

At first, everything falls silent, the lavender boy's whimpers of pain disappearing in the thick air. Eyes glued shut with blood, Blurry feels his heart seize when his body stops the rhythmic rising and falling.

"Hey," ignoring the tremor in his voice, he lies a gentle hand on Josh's shoulder, and for once, he feels his heart begin to pick up, beating with fear when the younger doesn't respond. "Hey, come on, you're okay--"

He sits up suddenly, and Blurry swears his heart stops in shock. 

Blood runs down the side of his face in crimson webs, and when he forces his eyes to open, they seem rimmed with blood as well.

They stare at each other in silence for a minute, Blurry unable to say anything, the lavender boy's eyes dazed and unfocused.

"I hurt," is all he croaks before he collapses into Blurry, covering him in warm blue and lavender blood.

"You're okay," is all Blurry can choke out, and he wraps his arms tightly around him, pressing the cut on Josh's face against his shoulder and hoping he'd stop bleeding.

The lavender boy quietly mumbles soft nothings, warm tears splattering against his savior's neck. "Hurts so much. So much."

"I know..." Blurry swallows the hot anger down his throat. He needs to take care of his angel.

"Come on, I'm bringing you to the nurse," he wraps an arm under his legs with some difficulty and cradles Josh against his chest, hushing him softly when he cries in pain. When he stands, he's immediately taking off he school nurse's office, the lavender boy in his arms light and soft.

The kids in the hall watch with wide eyes, and Blurry doesn't know if it's the sight of blood dripping from the boy in his arms or the sight of the two of them as a whole, but he decides he doesn't care.

The walk to the office seems longer than normal, but when they finally arrive, the nurse is quick to spring into action, ordering him to put the lavender boy on the sterile white bed as she rushed to get the needles and syringes to bring his angel back together again. 

Blurry pulls away, knowing he should leave, but a soft hand grasps his own.

"Please don't leave me," Josh whispers, eyes glazed with his blood, and Blurry squashes the hopeful undertone that rises in his soul with the thought that if his angel knew who exactly he was, knew that his attackers were the same people under his command, then maybe he would've wanted him to leave.

Blurry can't help, though, the sad, pleading coffee eyes piercing and making his heart ache in the strangest ways possible, and he lifts lavender boy's hand, presses a red kiss to the back of it before the nurse rushes back in, and he's pulling away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you liked it. Please leave kudos or comments if you did, thank you! Please know it really gives me motivation and inspiration <3
> 
> Stay Alive frens |-/


	6. Chapter Six

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello frens...
> 
> Sorry this is a little late, but I hope you enjoy.

After that incident, Josh and Blurry go back to normal, avoiding each other without really meaning to, sending each other quick, shy glances in biology and whenever they happen to pass one another in the halls.

Josh doesn't comment on the black eyes that appear on the entire basketball team the day after, and Blurry doesn't comment on the fact that Josh probably doesn't remember or realize who it was that pulled him out of the bathroom.

 

••••••

 

Blurry doesn't understand the turning of his stomach, or the feel of bile or nervousness or whatever the hell it was that was making it worse and climbing up his throat, but he forces one foot in front of the other, forces his shaky and clammy hold on his lunch tray to stay tight.

For once, it's not the idea of putting chemical substances disguised as food from the cafeteria into his mouth that's making him nervous.

He stops just in front of the table all the way at the back of the room, and the loud incessant chatterings and obnoxious shouts of laughter are all but muted to him.

A few beads of nervous sweat drip down his back and he curses himself for feeling like this.

It's just a sophomore, he thinks, and somehow that only makes it worse.

Maybe it's the way that the lavender boy only keeps his eyes glued to the table as he nibbles on his sandwich as if looking up wasn't worth it (Blurry was sure as hell it wasn't) or it was the fact that he looked so young and small and completely alone.

Whatever it was spurs Blurry to clear his throat, knock his almost shaking fist against the table softly.

Josh's head darts up, and for a split second, inexplicable fear clouds his coffee eyes until he realizes who it is.

"Can I sit?" 

Josh stares wide-eyed, swallowing nervously and opening his mouth a couple of times but not finding any words.

Blurry thinks it's annoying (only because he doesn't want to do something embarrassing like admit it was the cutest thing he ever saw) and he lets out an unexpected sigh of relief when Josh's mouth clamps shut and nods, looking down again as pink blooms across his cheeks in light pastel.

They eat in silence for a while, Blurry settling in and calming his raging heart when he convinces himself the hardest part is over. However, contrary to his mind set is that of Josh's, whose poor head spins a hundred thousand times with unasked questions.

None of them come out that afternoon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! If you have time, please give kudos/review! They give me purpose ;_;


	7. Chapter Seven

It's over a week of eating lunches together in silence. Though he'd been silently shocked at the first few times Tyler had sat opposite of him, the initial bewilderment melted away a little more with each passing day into a strange sense of enjoyment. Despite the silence between them, Tyler seemed to be content with it, as he never made any attempt at speaking with him.

But Josh, being the curious cat his brother always called him, had questions. And hundreds of them. It was only a matter of time, he supposed until they bursted out. 

It was completely unplanned and unexpected when one Wednesday, after Tyler silently took a seat in from of him, having stopped asking for permission a while ago, that he glances up from his peanut butter sandwich, staring at the boy for a while and just watching him unwrap his own sandwich.

The question slips out like water between his fingers.

"Why are you sitting with me?"

Tyler looks up. His brown eyes are a bit wider than normal, and Josh can clearly see curious, red flecks sparkling in them.

He swallows and frowns inwardly when he feels his cheeks grow warm. They seem to be doing that a lot these days.

Then he realizes what his question sounded like.

"I'm sorry," he interjects quickly, dropping his food on the table and raising his hands, his face the shade of a tomato by this point. "I like you sitting here, don't get me wrong, I just meant to say..."

He trails off nervously, words lost as he feels the scrutinizing pressure of Tyler's gaze on him. 

He looks down again, completely red in the face and completely embarrassed with every fiber in his body. He wouldn't be surprised if Tyler got up and re-joined his friends (where he should belong, instead of with the chubby, sophomore loser at the back table) and he feels tears burn in his eyes at the thought of having ruined his only chance of friendship.

"Are you crying?"

He rubs his eyes hastily with his arm, and his wondering of why he was so dysfunctional and emotional leaves him with even more prickly tears. 

Stop crying, his father's voice rings in his ears. Stop being such a cry baby.

A hand presses into his back, and he flinches instinctively, almost curling up into a ball before it caresses him gently, spills warm red into his cold, blue soul.

It's nice, comforting. Lavender.

"Don't cry," Tyler says quietly, sounding a bit panicked. "I'll be expelled if they think I made you cry."

That makes Josh laugh tearily, hiccup and choke, rubbing his palms into his eyes harshly as he tries to twist the faucet off.

"Hey, if you stop, I'll take you somewhere."

The suggestion shocks Josh enough to stop the tears, to say the least.

He looks up at Tyler, expecting a twisted grin to be painted across his face and cruelty to be clouding his eyes before he laughs in his face for thinking he meant what he said, but instead, his eyes are piercing his soul. Concerned. Maybe even a little worried.

He just doesn't want to get in trouble if he's seen with your weepy ass, his mind whispers, and Josh frowns, looking back down.

"No...no, you don't have to," he murmurs, voice a little croaky with his tears, embarrassment coming back in full swing as he drowns in the guilt of making a fellow student feel like he has to take care of him. "I'm sorry for crying, I'm okay now."

He stands up with his half-eaten sandwich and no appetite, ready to just about bolt out of the room before he explodes.

Tyler catches his sleeve before he does though, looking up at him with narrowed eyes.

"Meet me behind the building after school, okay?"

Josh stares at him for a while.

When he sees the determination burning in his eyes, the silent pleas for him to just say "yes" and make it easier for the both of them, he nods with another sad, annoying hiccup he just wishes he'd choke on, and disappears.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's a daaaaaate....
> 
> Jk
> 
> Or 
> 
> Am I?
> 
> Please drop kudos or a review if you liked it, please? I'll love you forever <333
> 
> Stay alive frens!!


	8. Chapter Eight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello frens! Please enjoy my work, as it is the only thing with worth in my life <33

Blurry is throwing himself off his mental cliff a million times after the school bell rings, signaling that their last class of the day is finished.

How did he become so stupid as to believe that taking out Josh was a good idea?

He couldn't care less about people, especially teenagers. They were loud and obnoxious and got in the way of everything.

Why did he think it was a good idea to touch and comfort one, even going as far as to making sure that they were okay by inviting to take them out? 

Stupid, stupid, stupid, he berates himself, walking quickly through the halls to his lockers as he begins shoving both books and homework papers into it. 

How can I be such an idiot? He hits his head against his locker with considerable force.

Multiple times.

"....This isn't a good time, is it?"

Blurry jumps, placing his hand over his heart before it explodes.

"Jeez, you scared me!" he accuses, trying and failing to sound annoyed when Josh smiles a little.

"I'm spooky," he says softly, looking bashfully at his feet.

"Hi, Spooky, I'm Tyler," Blurry deadpans sarcastically, resisting the urge to take it up the next level and shake his hand.

He really doesn't need any more skin-on-skin contact between the two of them. 

Josh laughs, eyes crinkling. "No, you're Blurry."

How funny it is, that one simple word could make it feel as if the entire world had dropped from beneath him.

"What--" he chokes off, sure that if his face conveyed any degree of emotion he felt at that point, he would be a remarkable sight. Confirmation of this fact is solidified by how Josh's eyes grow wide, a worried look glazing over his face.

Blurry's white as a ghost.

"How--why--" he can barely form words, much less a sentence.

From the beginning to now, he had always been Tyler Joseph. 

Tyler, Tyler, Tyler, Tyler.

That's all he ever was to anyone.

Except Josh, apparently.

"I--" the lavender boy pauses, gulping, "you were just hitting your head so fast against your locker you had a really blurry face," Josh spills quickly, a look of hope dawning on his face when Blurry seems to freeze, compute, mouth forming a soft 'o' shape as a strange emotion washes over him.

He pretends it's realization and relief for a while until he identifies the feelings as the soft undertones of disappointment.

Mental war begins.

At first, Blurry tries to feel indifferent, nonchalant. So the lavender boy just called him what he saw on the surface/physical side, nothing wrong or abnormal at all.

But despite thinking this, no matter how many times he tries to tell himself different, Blurry can't deny that all he wants is someone to know him, someone to understand him. 

At least, that's what he's been wanting, as of late, and that flaming desire is only fanned by none other than his lavender boy.

A silence descends upon them, Blurry lost in thought and Josh burning crimson as he berates himself, head turned away from the basketball captain and staring down the nearly empty hall miserably.

Stupid, stupid, stupid Josh.

Why did he always have to ruin everything? Why couldn't he keep things normal instead of uncomfortable and awkward? Was it really a wonder why he had no friends and why his father--

"If you call me Blurry, I'll call you Spooky."

Josh is jerked out of his thoughts, and his body seems to react that way, head snapping to the side so quickly and suddenly that he almost feels like he dislodged it.

Blurry has a small, mischievous smile, expression very much changed from the baffled-to-understanding it was a minute ago.

"Um..okay," he nods, suddenly feeling shy and light again as he hopes with every fiber in his being that maybe just maybe things would go smoother from there.

They stand there in silence again, Blurry inwardly cheering for finally taking a step in showing his true self, and Josh glowing in hope that perhaps he'd come out of the situation with a friend.

"So..." Blurry coughs after a pregnant stretch of silence.

"So..."

"I--wanna go...somewhere?"

What are you doing? his mind screams but he bites back. I'm just doing this to analyze a fellow student, he thinks. No big deal.

Josh blinks, face a bit blank before he smiles lightly. "I think I know a place."

 

 

••••••••

 

Red leather stools creak every so often when turned. The simple white bar is smooth under his skin, the glass in his hand cold and dribbling with condensation.

Fizzy liquid helps float a perfect scoop of ice cream, a straw twirled and swirling the cream into the soda.

"Go here often?"

A smile. A blindingly beautiful smile. "When I have some extra pocket money."

Blurry can't help but smile widely, and he brings the rim of the drink to his lips to try to hide it.

"I like this place, not many people come here," Josh explains, eyes trained on the drink in front of him as he continues to swirl the drink with the straw. 

The older boy nods, taking a moment to glance at the clean, creme walls and the black and white pictures adorning them. Vintage posters of '50s boys and girls sitting around a bar and enjoying sodas, looking like they're having the time of their life make Blurry smile.

With the boy sitting beside him, they don't know what they're missing.

They're both used to the silence between the them, it's comfortable though there are so many things they want to talk about but they don't know how, and the sweet floats in front of them provide a reason to take their time.

'I like your hair.'

'Your coffee eyes are the most beautiful orbs I've ever seen.'

'Your smile is blinding me, even in peripheral vision, please never stop.'

Blurry wants to say so many things but he frowns, drowns those statements with creamy root beer. There's no way he can say any of those. He'd probably scare the poor boy. 

Frustratingly enough, heat washes over his cheeks as he contemplates all the strange compliments flowing and feeding the stomach in his brain, and he bites his bottom lip, pulling out his phone and praying for a distraction. 

Just something to make the flush drain from his cheeks, and he'll be grateful. Maybe if he's lucky, Josh won't have any time to notice--

"Hey, you're red," Josh pipes up, voice light and smooth like buttercream. "You okay?"

"Peachy," he mumbles, staring at the lock screen as he tries to punch in his code with shaky thumbs. Why did his stupid hands have to shake so much?

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees the red-headed boy tilt a little, a large grin covering his face after a moment.

Blurry grabs his drink, takes a heavy gulp in an attempt to bring the heat out of his face, when Josh says something that makes him nearly choke and spit it back up.

"You're blushing...Texting a girl?"

Blurry splutters, and the words 'No, I'm blushing because I can't deal with my feelings and why are you making fun of me you're the reason why I'm acting so damn stupid,' nearly slip out, but instead, he just clamps his mouth shut tight, cheeks burning even more (if that was possible) and he shakes his head curtly.

Josh, however, doesn't seem to be done with his teasing, as he leans toward the boy sitting beside him, arm resting against the counter and a playful grin on his adorable face.

"I dunno...you look totally smitten."

"I don't mess with any girls at our school," Blurry points out, voice slightly gritted as he tries not to burst into a full-blown grin because now Josh was looking straight at him, light bouncing off the counter and hitting his face in just the right way to make him look ethereal, coffee eyes glimmering with sparks of dark green and gold.

"Some of them are pretty," Josh says under his breath, shrugging and looking back at his drink before taking a gulp of it. "And y'know... some of them wanna mess with you." He wiggles his eyebrows up and down suggestively.

Blurry rolls his eyes. "I don't like girls."

Heavy quiet smothers them for a moment that seems to stretch on for eternity.

"So..." Josh's voice is hesitant. Stepping on eggshells. "You're--"

"I don't like people," Blurry clarifies, swallowing a bit nervously when he sees the lavender boy do a double take.

With the way he tilts his head, narrows his eyes in the slightest and pokes out a bit of his tongue as he tries to comprehend just what exactly Blurry means, the older boy smiles, glad the boy beside him is too preoccupied to see it.

"But...then why are you--"

"Here with you?" 

Though Blurry was he one to say it, it makes him begin to think again. He thinks and ponders as he stares into the lavender boy's eyes, finding confusion and wonderment in those beautiful galaxies.

Why am I here with you?

It's only after a few minutes, when the man behind the counter coughs a little, that they look away from each other, Josh's hands falling into his lap and Blurry's fingertips tapping against the counter, and they're quiet again.

 

••••••

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! You might notice that it's longer than usual and that is because I won't be able to update it tomorrow!
> 
> Long story short, I'm going to see twenty one pilots in concert tonight and I'm sure I won't be able to function afterwards for a long time! I'm so excited and scared at the same time what is life???


	9. Chapter Nine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi frens...
> 
> I'm sorry it's taking me a while to update this; my life has been so busy lately! Also I was dying from food poisoning last night so I'm still trying to recuperate...
> 
> Anyways, enough of me rambling. I hope you enjoy!

The next time they're sitting side by side, they're in a classroom.

"We didn't have this last year," is the first thing Josh says quietly, looking around with nervous glances. 

The school sits on the floors, every sophomore, junior, senior, and freshman stuffed into the gym with polished wooden floors, most of them not fitting on the bleachers. 

They chatter amongst themselves softly, most of them wondering why they were all summoned into the gym on a Thursday morning.

Blurry shrugs uselessly, but he knows. He knows what's happening when a large screen is unrolled, a projector lighting up the plain white with colors, the lights dying down. 

The words of the news reporters are loud enough to hear, words like 'threats' and 'nuclear bombs' immediately silencing and sombering the children.

When the principal comes out, begins explaining what's going on as a documentary filled with explosions and mushroom clouds play in the background, what conflict has the world in its grasp and turning countries against one another, Blurry quietly looks at Josh, chest aching when he sees chocolate eyes trained on the screen, filled with an uncomfortable, worried emotion.

He's holding the other boy's clenched fist in the dark before he knows it.

"Don't be scared."

Why does Blurry say it when he himself can't deny the rush of sick nervousness flooding into his stomach and making him feel like he'll vomit the cereal he ate that morning? He doesn't know.

Josh turns away from the TV, looks at him with sorrow painting his pretty face a shade of blue.

They watch for a little longer, and it's only until they begin showing the results of radiation, the bombings of Hiroshima being the perfect example, that Josh whimpers.

The flesh melting from bones on the screen, glass stuck in people's skin and cries of helpless, dying children make the lavender boy scoot closer to Blurry. 

The older boy doesn't blame him when he presses himself into his side, and only wraps an arm around him, hoping to God Josh didn't burst into tears like the girls around him were.

What would he do if that happened? he wonders.

"We shouldn't believe that," Blurry says softly, gesturing to the screen with a jerk of his head. He doesn't know what he's hoping to achieve. Comforting his friend? Or comforting himself, trying to make himself feel protected and invincible instead of the vulnerable, raw fear biting at the edges of his soul?

Josh looks up, and the noise around them dies out as they stare at one another, undeniable fear but trust passing between their brown eyes.

It takes a while, until a small, teary, hopeful smile lifts the corners of Josh's mouth, and red warms blue into the usual, pretty lavender, almost immediately soothing the older boy.

"We don't believe what's on TV."

 

•••••••

 

A day passes.

They're sitting side by side again.

This time, it's large scoops of ice cream and warm chocolate sauce drizzled all over whipped cream being shoveled into their mouths.

Not a word passes between them until they finish.

"I need to stop coming here," Blurry sighs as he leans back, stretches and rubs his cream-filled belly that pokes out a little more than normal. He nearly rolls his eyes. He hates how his normally flat stomach responds to sweets. 

Josh, however, just grins, looking more handsome than ever, his soft middle just barely pushed out to be a little noticeable.

Blurry wants to hug him; maybe he'd be like a warm marshmallow.

When his gaze drops back to his own stomach, he groans. "'M gonna get fat."

"Being fat isn't so bad."

"How can you say that when you're not even fat though?"

The smile never leaves Josh's face, but it's a bit smaller, sadder. "Your team seems to think so."

"They're idiots," he huffs.

They don't talk about how they didn't plan on meeting there after school, how it was probably fate that decided they should be together again that afternoon (or, in other words, blind hope that they'd run into each other there by 'chance.')

Instead, they talk about Josh's shirt.

"X-Files?" Blurry says quietly, nodding a bit towards the 'I Want To Believe' written in gray under a picture of a flying saucer.

Josh blushes, but he bites his lip, tries to keep from smiling. "How did you know?"

"You're not the only one who watches nerdy shows, you special little snowflake."

Although it might've been taken as an offensive remark, especially with how dry Blurry says it, Josh laughs, eyes crinkling and musical (magical) notes of joy spilling from his mouth.

Blurry decides it's the most beautiful sound he's ever heard.

"I like aliens."

"I'm sure you do, Spooky."

His smile gets wider.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you haven't downloaded Clique Amino (an app) for interacting with other Twenty One Pilots fans, you should do it now! It's basically like Tumblr kinda except it's just for the clique.
> 
> If you add me, I'll add you back and we can DM if you want! My username is Ms B
> 
> Thank you for reading, please leave some feedback if you enjoyed!
> 
> xxx V


	10. Chapter Ten

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Get ready for some protective Blurry....

When Blurry shows up at the diner-esque/ice cream/soda parlor the next day, Josh isn't there.

Despite this, Blurry ignores the fact that he wasn't at school, and pretends everything is fine.

 

••••••

 

Everything is not fine.

When he sees him in biology, his lavender boy has an extra spot of purple.

But it isn't soft, or pretty.

It's an ugly, gnarly purple around his eye, puffed up and obvious.

It drives Blurry mad.

The second the bell rings, Blurry gets up hastily, grabs all of his books and rushes to the door when he realizes that Josh is already out, shoving kids out of his way and not caring about whose foot he stepped on or whose shin he kicked to move out quicker.

He sees red hair in the sea of teenagers, and bolts through the crowd, nearly dropping his books.

Not that he'd care, anyway.

"Josh!" he shout whispers, not wanting to draw any unnecessary attention when he gets close enough, grabbing the lavender boy's wrist tight and dragging him closer to the lockers.

He doesn't look at him at first, staring at his worn out black Vans silently as he clutches the heavy biology text book almost protectively against his chest.

He knows it's ugly. He knows.

 

•••••

 

"Who did this to you?" Tyler shakes him a little, and he sounds angry. 

Josh doesn't want to tip him off regardless of how scared he is, he wants to melt and slip through the cracks of the dirty school floor, wants to evaporate like water and just disappear.

A rough hand grasps his chin tightly and forces him to look up, a small gasp coming from him.

Red eyes.

He's met with the reddest eyes ever.

"Josh, you have to tell me," Tyler says urgently, voice demanding and full of rage. "Tell me who hurt you."

"No one," Josh finally says, and his voice sounds so soft and little and pathetic in his own ears. He wishes God would give him strength. 

"I know you're lying to me!" he exclaims, and though his voice is raised, no one seems to turn their head or notice. 

Everyone's talking loud. Everyone's angry, in Josh's eyes.

"Tell me who hurt you!"

Tears fill his eyes, but he clenches them shut, turns his head away as panic rises up his throat.

"Josh, tell me who hit you! Right now!"

"Please stop," he croaks, but Tyler's loud voice covers up his whimpers, and he doesn't stop. He doesn't stop yelling and demanding and shaking him. 

Why won't he stop? 

Tears run down Josh's face, but they only magnify his bruise, the manipulated snow skin turned rotten. 

Blurry's obviously enraged, shaking Josh in his grip to try to get him to look at him. He just wants to know who hurt him, because it doesn't matter why. In his mind, no one's allowed to touch his lavender boy, much less hurt him.

If only he knew what he was doing to him at that very moment.

The situation had been out of hand right at the beginning, and students are already turning heads and watching as Blurry's voice rises is anger and panic.

His mind registers empty whimpers and quiet pleads, but it's only until Josh shouts for him to stop, shoves against his chest and escapes out of his hands, that Blurry feels it hit him like a car.

Regret. Remorse.

It washes over his soul and eats him up, and with the way his lavender boy is staring at him, with wide, teary eyes and a trembling lip, he wants nothing more than to hold him.

So he does.

He rushes forward, and Josh almost pushes him again, until he feels arms wrap around him tightly. Scalding tears drop on his red hair, and he hears Tyler mumble over and over.

"I'm sorry," he whispers, voice shaky and completely transformed from the rage-filled demands that it was earlier. "I'm sorry."

"You scared me," is all Josh says, all he can say, as he gingerly returns the embrace. It's only until he forces himself to let go of the fear, let the sadness finally leak a little out of his eyes that he can completely melt in Tyler's arms, clutching onto him tightly. 

"Please tell me who hurt you," Blurry begs, voice soft so he wouldn't scare Josh anymore. "Please, please."

With how foreign the word tastes on his tongue, he realizes that this is the first time he really, truly begged for something.

"It's okay," Josh says in his neck. "Drop it, please. Just forget about it."

When Blurry pulls away to look in his eyes, he finds the desperateness swimming in Josh's unshed tears, the thousand pleads that scream louder to him than words ever could.

"If it'll make you happy," Blurry chokes out in spite of how his mind's hands seem to wrap around his throat and squeeze his neck. 

The teary smile Josh flashes him when he nods is worth the pain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you liked it, please let me know how I did via kudos/review? Thank you so much!
> 
> Stay alive, frens |-/


End file.
